Girl in the War
by commandmetobewell
Summary: It's the year 1945 and the Allies are making the last push; the war was finally coming to an end. The fight calls upon one of the twins, whisking her away to fight for their country… and for each other.


**A/N:** This was also written when I was just starting fan-fiction. Excuse how terrible it is.

* * *

She sat in their vast kitchen at the worn old oak table. The dishes were done and a cup of lukewarm tea blew wisps of grey steam up from beside her. The woman breathed, in and out, desperate to remember the last time she had seen her. Her hands furled around the crumpled paper between her hands. Her trembling hands shook as the old wooden clock chimed.

The middle aged woman gently cocked her head upwards, looking up at the timekeeper and let out a strangled mewl. The clock chimed louder, mocking her. The woman sat, hunched over. The chair that held her weight up groaned, and for a second the woman thought that it, too, would break apart. The woman folded the note in her hand into a half, smoothing the edges. She proceeded to fold it in halves until the paper was unable to comply to her callused hands.

 _"I need this washed, please."_

 _I looked up from my desk with weary eyes, cringing at the sound of her familiar voice. I glanced up to see my twin's identical hazel eyes bearing down on me. I looked at the bag she had placed on the countertop and sighed._

 _"Why are you here?" I asked, my voice scratchy. Tegan took a deep breath and looked over at me. She reached over the counter and touched my bony wrists with her callused fingertips._

 _"I don't understand why you left." Tegan's voice was pained and distant as she spoke. I felt my tears burn at her words. I shook my head and used all the available strength I had to pull away from her. I grabbed her bag and proceeded to the back. I didn't have to hear her heavy steps to know she was following me. I placed the bag on the table and spilled its contents._

 _Her green military uniform was dusty and worn. I could see that there was a poorly stitched line on her upper left sleeve. I traced my fingers over the line, biting back tears. Tegan's gentle hand touched my shoulder gently._

 _"Sara… I know it scares you, but the war is nearly over. I'll come home and we'll be together. I promise you," Tegan said, turning me around. I refused to look at her eyes, because I knew what awaited me if they did. Tegan placed her hands on my cheek, wiping away a stray tear._

 _"Darling, Germany is pushing back. Word's out that Hitler's gone and offed himself. We might just win, Sara." Tegan's words were hopeful, but constrained. I looked up into her eyes, letting my emotions take control of my body._

 _I took the time to look her up and down, noticing the faint scar that lined the side of her eyebrow. It was shrapnel piece, three inches and jagged; it took four weeks for the damned thing to heal. She stuck her neck out on the line to save her battalion. The admiral sent her home for recovery after she took a bullet to her arm. I nearly lost her that day._

 _"If they're winning, then why do you need to go?" I said back, my tone heavy and deep. Tegan gently brushed my lips with her thumb and tilted my chin up. I looked her in the eye and felt my heart twist. I felt my hand reach up and touch her shoulder, feeling the hard muscles. In her plain black shirt I could see the outline of her scar beneath the fabric. My fingertips traced the line. Tegan licked her lips and let out a faint whimper as I looked back up at her._

 _"I need to go so I can protect you, Sara," Tegan whispered, her voice strong and deep. I let out a choking sob as she pulled me closer to her. I wrapped my arms around her body, inhaling her scent._

 _"You want to protect me? Stay," I mumbled into her neck. Tegan drew a sharp breath and pulled away. She placed her hands on either side of my face and kissed my chapped lips softly._

 _"You know I can't do that, Sara. I have to fight with them. I have to fight for my country, and for my love," Tegan murmured back, breaking away. I faintly tasted her on my lips as I turned away._

 _I placed her uniform in the wash tub. I took the plastic bag she had brought and folded it, once, twice, three times - until it was no longer foldable. I handed her the small rectangle and gave her a small, weak smile. Tegan's eyes were dark and sad as she took it from me. I nodded at the door, my gaze blank and emotionless._

 _"Go fight, then."_

A loud noise boomed outside of their small house. The middle aged woman stood instantly, feeling a familiar fear run through her. She placed the folded note inside of her jacket pocket and padded into their bedroom. She lit a candle beside the bed that she had not seen in so long. The sheets were stiff and cold, unwelcoming. She eased herself down to sit precariously on the edge. The mattress sank in at the contact of her weight. The woman swallowed hard and let the anxieties run a course through her frame. It was after sometime that she heard the sirens sound.

She closed her eyes, praying that no one died tonight.

 _"Sara, you know that she'll come back. The boys from my squad came back just yesterday with news of conquering Munich. They're so close. Tegan was leading the group that met the last fleet of Nazis. Paul said that they had managed to take down the base with only a few casualties," Ted spoke from beside me. We were sitting, bundled in fur coats to block out the chilling wind. I looked over at Ted, wishing that I could believe him. My eyes scanned his pants, noticing the differences between both legs. One leg was full and healthy while the other stopped just at his knee. His pants looked uneven. Ted sighed from beside me._

 _"A few is still a number, Ted," I responded bitterly, blinking away tears._

 _"Tegan's a fighter. She'll come home, Sara," he whispered. I shook my head, unable to look at him. He placed a gentle yet worn, hand on my knees. His touch eased the troubled shaking, but still I felt nervous. I needed something more._

 _"Look Ted, I see the soldiers. I'm the one that fixes their wounds. I don't understand why I chose to sign up to nurse the sick and wounded after she got shipped out. I guess I wanted to experience it - the war. There were so many that I couldn't save, Ted. I nearly lost her once… I can't lose her again." I closed my eyes, imaging my fair share of busted guts, infested bullet wounds and sickened soldiers. Ted nodded and looked up at the pale evening sky._

 _"You fixed me, Sara. Even if she came home wou-"_

 _"No, don't you dare say that," I cut him off immediately, shooting him a glare. Ted bit his tongue and nodded, taking back his previous words. I drew a sharp breath and wrapped my coat tighter around my shoulders. The winter breeze pulled into my bones, shaking me to my core._

 _"I've got a girl in the war, Ted. All I need is for her to come back," I said in a hoarse whisper, watching my breath evaporate in front of me. Ted moved his hand from my knee to grasp my own. He gently rubbed his thumb over the cracked skin. I clasped his back tightly and closed my eyes, thinking of Tegan, of bloody clothes and silent cries._

 _"What will bring her home?"_

The bell chimed again and the woman couldn't sleep. She stood, erect, and paced the small quarters of their bedroom. The note in her pocket burned deep into the skin of her thighs. It was nearly midnight and there was only one question on her mind.

Where was she?

 _"Ms Quin, up please, it's the Army."_

 _I heard a rough male voice call from my door. I pulled off my apron and placed it delicately by the boiling pot of soup._

 _"Coming, just a minute!" I wiped my hands on the towel. Perhaps someone had been injured again. After many months in the field, I had developed a knack for treating injuries and soon enough, I was deeming myself to be the best nurse in the local regiment. I made my way over to the door, my footsteps causing small echoes upon the creaking wooden floorboards. I unlocked the latch on the door and pulled it open._

 _A few men, and Ted, stood in a clump at my doorstep. I sent a warm smile to Ted, but he didn't smile back. He simply dipped his head and avoided my gaze. I swallowed hard and felt my stomach churn. I turned my gaze to the stocky man with the moustache. He pulled off his cap and held it under his armpit before nodding his head at me._

 _"I'm leftenant Phillips." His voice was deep and husky as he introduced himself. I looked to the other two men in fear. My knees buckled, threatening to drop me in front of them. The man took a deep breath and pulled out a piece of paper._

 _"We received the telegram at dawn. The war is over." He said, handing me the folded, slightly yellowed, paper. I stood in apprehension, not wanting to see what information it held. The corners of my lips were drawn up into a faint smile as I took the paper from him. It was over, my baby did it; she fucking did it._

 _"She's coming home right? The war being over and all, she's coming home?" I asked them, my voice shaky with hope. Ted let out a faint cry, and I nearly would have missed it had he not turned his head sideways. I shook my head as I turned my gaze to the solemn leftenant. He placed the hat back on his head and turned around with the men._

 _Ted looked up with watery eyes as he shook his head. He hobbled forward on his gimp leg and crutches. He reached up to place a small kiss on my cheek. He didn't say anything, instead decided to keep his lips pursed tightly together. He gave me a faint nod and turned around to meet the three men that awaited him. The leftenant gave me one last honest look before they all turned towards the car._

 _I glanced at the note, feeling it weigh down on me like an anchor. The tips of my fingers were sweaty as the marked the paper. I held it tightly between my fingers before going back inside the house. I locked the door and unfolded the slip. As I read the first few lines, I crumbled to my knees. I let out an bloodcurdling scream as my weak body collapsed into a heap._

 _I stayed there for the rest of the day, forgetting about the soup and the dishes. The house we had shared together for years suddenly felt so empty. The heat from the fireplace gave me no comfort. The words inked into my skin through my sweat, and I cried harder. I pushed my face into the creaking wooden planks beneath me._

 _They cried too._

The woman heard the door unlock at last. She turned to the clock on the wall and saw that it was now the early hour of the morning. She dug the note out of her pocket and walked towards the bathroom. She straightened the collar on her crisp black shirt and smoothed out her choppy brown curls. She took one last breath and glanced at the note in her hand. Her legs worked for her, giving her the power to make her way to where she was needed. She walked down the stairs slowly, needing time to remember all that had happened in the past years.

The war wasn't the only thing that had been fought here.

The woman stood, her rusted black boots pressed to the floorboards. She held her hands behind her back and tilted her chin upwards at the sight of the door opening. The darkness masked her, hiding her from the person at her door. The moonlight spilled out from behind the silhouette of the small person, illustrating that she was carrying two bags, probably containing rations for the week. The light quickly vanished however, as the door was closed again. The rustling stopped as the person stood still. Unable to make out who she was, the small framed woman took a ginger step forward. The other person stood where they were, unmoving. The woman took one last bated breath and took one last step forward.

The other person scanned up and down the woman's body. The woman's face was one of terror and joy, mixed in with muddled disbelief. The person dropped the bags. The light thud of what seemed to be potatoes rolling on the wooden floor was enough to startle them both. The woman nodded in the dim light, glancing deep into the other person's eyes.

The other person, a woman of her height and stature, took it upon herself to tremble and cry in her presence. She dropped to her knees and held her hands in her face, crying. The woman who had been standing for far too long now, also let her aching knees kiss the gentle wood. She reached her hands out and placed them square on the other woman's shoulder. She took one precariously, and wiped away the falling tears on the other's skin. She let out a heart wrenching gasp as her rough fingers met the smooth porcelain skin.

The crying woman looked deep into her eyes and stopped her tears for a few moments, allowing her body some relief. Then, she pursed her lips and took a sharp breath. She placed her gentle hands on the face of woman in front of her. At her touch, the woman burst into her own set of tears. She let them free, for she had been holding them in until this moment. She would tell herself she could cry when it was over, and it was now over.

She met the lips of the other woman with her own, running her hands from her face to her hair. The other woman gasped and fell back against the wood. As their kisses became heated and their movements turned rushed and desperate, the paper note drifted to fall between their searching bodies. Dawn crept in through the back window, cascading their bodies in the warm light. In that moment, the two women pulled apart to look at each other for the first time in months. No sounds or words came from them.

Just silence.

They took a minute to revel in the beauty of each other before their mouths met again. The stronger of the two picked the other up in her arms. For a moment, she looked down to make sure that it was indeed her love that was she was carrying, not the dead body of her brother or sister from the trenches. The woman felt tears fall, but with each tear came a gentle kiss, eradicating the sadness and replacing it with love. The woman smiled and carried her up the stairs, towards the bedroom.

The note laid still and unforgiven on the floor, now lit up by the morning sun. The sounds of the long lost bodies and souls meeting, could be heard from where it laid unfolded and bare.

It would soon be forgotten, swept under the dresser drawer for many years to come, until someone, not them, would find it. The words would not remain heavy and paper no longer tainted, but instead it would carry a message of hope. The years of fighting and anguish could never be unseen, the scars could never be lifted from their skins, but the pain would soon fade.

Sara misinterpreted the simple time and date as a message of her lover's passing. It would be forever known as something far more valuable than that. The soiled parchment no longer became the note she folded, once, twice - three times until it was small and dense. It was instead lost under dust and dirt, hidden away from their creaking bones and greying hair. It was a remainder of all they had lost, but it there was something bigger to be known. It was a message that no amount of words could explain, so instead it was reduced to three simple and powerful words.

They had won.


End file.
